


What You Do To Yourself

by Wolfcry22



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Allergies, Brotherly Love, Dean Winchester Takes Care of Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester Use Their Words, Dean Winchester is Protective of Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester is Sam Winchester's Parent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Has Allergies, Sam Winchester Whump, Season 1 or Season 2, Sneezing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:01:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25245805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfcry22/pseuds/Wolfcry22
Summary: Sam stops taking his allergy meds, because they're expensive and he feels guilty, and he tries not to make a big deal of it, but Dean can see how miserable he's making himself.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 104





	What You Do To Yourself

**Author's Note:**

> This is just another fluff ridden story with Sam and Dean set in the earlier seasons so probably season 1 or 2. I love their interactions the most there and kinda miss that from the later seasons. I hope you all enjoy!

"Huh'Itcshshs!" 

Dean peered over from Sam from across the motel room. He raised an eyebrow as he saw Sam sniffle and lower his hands from his face. He shook his head ever so slightly with his hair shifting around his face and the back of his neck. He sniffled almost as an afterthought before we went back to his research. 

"Hey, you find anything over there," Dean called. 

Sam looked up and shook his head. "No, not yet," answered Sam as he pulled a tissue out of a small box on the table beside him and brought it up to his nose. He blew his nose as quietly as possible before he threw it in the small wastebasket that was at his feet. 

"You okay, Sammy," asked Dean as he stood up from the bed and walked over to the small table that Sam was sitting at. "You've been awfully sneezy this morning. You take your meds?”

“Yeah, of course, Dean," Sam reassured as he looked up to his brother. His nostrils slightly flared and it appeared that he was doing his best not to sneeze or sniffle in Dean’s presence.

Dean kept the eye contact before he turned around and headed to the cabinet in the small kitchen area. He grabbed the keys and tossed them to Sam. "How about you go and get us some food if you're not doing anything useful on that thing?"

"And what are you going to do," Sam asked as he finally sniffled. 

Dean looked over to Sam's laptop and raised his eyebrows. "What do you think?" He licked his lips and smiled.

Sam grimaced. "Gross dude. Just, Huh'Itshshs! Huh'ITShh!"

"And don't you dare sneeze all over Baby or I'll smash the one thing that you care about: your laptop," threatened Dean with narrowed eyes. 

Sam grunted as he dragged his feet forward. He grabbed the keys and headed out. As soon as he was gone, Dean did what he usually did—be a good big brother. He had a feeling that Sam couldn't have been taking his allergy medication. If he had been, he shouldn't have been sneezing like this. 

The night prior Sam had been snoring so loud that it had actually woken up Dean. He hadn't said anything to Sam since sometimes he had bad days or nights even with his allergy medication, but things were getting a little excessive. He had a feeling that Sam wasn't taking his meds, but he didn't have any proof. 

He would have to find some.

Dean picked up Sam's duffle and looked around. He knew exactly where Sam kept his medicine, but he dumped everything out all the same, and nothing was there. He swore under his breath before he threw it aside in frustration. He pushed his hair back with his hand, looking at the wastebasket that Sam had been using steadily for the past four days that they had been there. 

Dean grabbed it and set it on the table, looking at it and felt his stomach clench. All he saw was tissues and he could only image how much Sammy snot was on them. He grimaced as he shook his head. "Oh no," he whimpered as he gagged heavily and swallowed. "This is like one of the most disgusting things that I've ever done." 

He started to rummage around the used tissues until he felt at the bottom of the trash. He finally felt a bottle and brought it up. He shook it and heard nothing within. He lifted it up and saw that Sam would've run out about four days ago. He dropped it back into the rash and turned his hand and saw a tissue sticking to it. He gasped as he jumped back, flicking the tissue back from which it came.

A full body shudder rushed through him and he he squirmed madly. "Eww! Sammy, it's a good thing I love you. Damnit!" 

Dean rushed to the bathroom and quickly washed his hands, lathering them up with enough soap to wash his entire body. He wasn't usually a germaphobe, but he had been up to his elbows in snot, literally. He hated that he had to rummage through the used tissues, and he hated that Sam hadn't taken his medicine, and he hated that Sam lied to him. But, he wasn't sure exactly what to say about it. He didn't want to yell at Sam since that never, ever worked. 

Worry and anger stirred inside of Dean as he made his way to the bed and turned on the TV. He wasn't in the mood to think much about this and that was fine. He just needed some mind numbing entertainment and that was the latest Si-Fi movie that was on TV. Dean sighed as he curled his hands on his chest and closed his eyes. 

"Huh'ITShsh!"

Dean opened one eye as he saw Sam fumbling into the room, one hand securely placed over his nose. His breath was hitching and panting with his chest expanding. His eyes streamed with the tears rolling down his cheeks. His nose ran like a waterfall under his hand and Dean didn't want to think how much snot he had managed to collect just in a few moments. 

"Huh'ItCShshhh! Huh'Itcshsh! Huh'ITShsh! Huh'ITCshsh! Huh'Itcshsh! Huh'ITSHSh! Shid!"

"How ya doin', Sammy," Dean called as he looked over at his brother.

Sam didn't answer as he headed into the bathroom and slammed the door. Dean sighed as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and went to see what Sam had gotten for dinner. He opened up the bag and frowned when he saw that it was just salad and another box of tissues. 

"Huh'TSChshs! Huh'Itcshsh! Huh'ITCShsh! Huh'ITCshshs!"

Dean shook his head as he continued to hear his little brother suffer in the bathroom. He sighed, waiting patiently for his brother to come out. They were going to have to have a conversation about this. 

It wasn't five minutes later that Sam came out from the bathroom with his nose and eyes streaming and completely bloodshot. His face looked puffier, and if Dean didn't know any better, he would've thought that Sam had just gotten into a disagreement with a hive of angry bees the way that he was swelling. He looked like an absolute wreck and Dean was so stunned at first that he wasn't sure what to say. 

"Um, how are you doing, Sammy," Dean asked as casually as he could muster.

"Id's Sab," Sam snapped, walking past his brother briskly. 

Dean nodded his head slowly as he watched his brother intently. "Right," he breathed slowly, thinking about what he could possibly say next that wouldn't sound absolutely terrible. He wanted to make Sam feel better—not worse—yet inside he was seething with anger. 

"Deadn," Sam growled, glancing over to Dean. "Did you see ady extra tissues in this place?”

Dean snapped from his own frustration once he looked to his hopelessly sniffling brother. "Yeah, um they're somewhere around here." He peered around with the thought of Sam’s allergy meds still in the forefront of his mind, before finally finding the new box tucked inside a cabinet, and tossing to his brother. "Here. You might want to blow your nose. You sound like someone stuffed cotton balls up there.”

Sam narrowed his eyes, ripping a few tissues from the box, and blowing his nose a few times before folding them once more, and blowing again. Once he was finished, he threw the much abused tissues in the trash. He straightened in exhaustion, glancing bashfully to the table where he saw his empty package of allergy medication. His head snapped up and spiraled around to glare at Dean through watery eyes. “Deadn."

"What," asked Dean before his gaze locked down at the bottle.

"Why are you goind through the trash," Sam asked, but the threat was a loss less extreme with his stuffy talk. 

Dean flinched. "What was I doing? More like what were you were doing? Sam, you need that allergy medication, especially now. It's spring and without it you're sneezing nonstop and your breathing is wheezy and labored most of the time and—“

"No," Sam interrupted as he grabbed more tissues and blew his nose so that he could be better understood this time.

"No what? What does that mean," Dean snapped angrily. 

Sam shook his head. "I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me."

"Sam, it's my job to worry about you. You need that allergy medication. How are you going to be any use during hunts if you're like this. Why didn't you tell me that you were out of your allergy meds," Dean complained.

Sam lifted his hands feebly and rubbed his open palms against his eyes. "I don't need a lecture right now, Dean."

"You really need to take them, Sam. Why aren't you taking them? What's gotten into you," Dean asked as he hit Sam against his chest when he jumped to his feet. It wasn’t enough to knock him over, but it did cause Sam to stagger. 

"Huh'Itshshs! Huh'ITShsh! Huh'ITCSHsHs! Huh'ITShsh! Huh'ISshsh!"

"See! Does this really seem to be helping anything," Dean snapped as he saw Sam fumble for the tissues to stop the mucus from leaking from his nostrils.

Dean quieted his voice since he knew by now that yelling did absolutely nothing for Sam. 

He had to try a different approach. "Sam, why are you doing this to yourself? Why is it when you can actually have what you need to function will you not take it?" 

"Because I don't need it," Sam croaked.

"Really? Because your sneezing and stuffy talk doesn't convince me at all," snapped Dean hotly. "So, what's the real reason?" 

"Huh'ITShsh! Huh'ITCshsh! Huh'ITShsh! Huh'ITShsh! Huh'ITShsh! Huh'ITSShsh! Huh'ITShshsh! Huh'ITShshs!"

"Woah, woah, easy, Sam," Dean exclaimed as he walked forward and reached out to his swaying brother.

"Huh'ITShsh! Huh'ITShsh! Huh'ITSShsh! Huh'Ishsh! Huh'Itshshs! Huh'Itshshs!"

Sam collapsed and Dean grabbed his shoulders as he continued to sneeze helplessly, head snapping down into his chest. His breathing began to wheeze as his chest heaved with each frantic breath. 

"Sam, Sam, talk to me. Where's your inhaler. I didn't see it in your bag," Dean asked frantically. 

Sam gasped for each breath, clutching slightly at his chest. He hung his head as Dean hit his cheek. "Sam, where is it?!" 

"C-Ca-Car," Sam stammered painfully. 

Dean rushed to his feet, grabbing the keys on the counter, and darting out of the motel room. He headed straight to the Impala so quickly that he barely registered what he was doing. He opened the driver's side and saw the bright red inhaler in one of the cup holders. He rushed forward to grasp it it, darting back to the room. He slammed open the door, barely registering that he needed to close it, before darting over to Sam’s and crumpled down on his knees.

His brother was still struggling for breath, partially propped up against one of the beds. Tears streaked down his cheeks, breath coming in ragged pants; his nose was clogged, not allowing any air to pass through.

"Okay, come on, Sam," Dean pleaded as he shook the inhaler and placed the mouthpiece gently in Sam's mouth. "Ready, take a deep breath in one....two....three!" 

Dean squeezed the top while Sam breathed in. Sam looked to Dean with Dean shaking his head gravely. "Ten seconds, remember? Count with me in your head. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven...almost there....Eight. Nine. Ten."

Sam let out a breath before he coughed painfully. "Again," he wheezed.

Dean shook the inhaler to prep it, for them to then repeat the process. He let out a breath of relief as he watched Sam slump almost sideways, sniffling tiredly. 

Dean pulled out a few tissues from the discarded box and handed them to Sam. "Come on. Blow you nose and then we have to talk, alright?"

Sam blew his nose softly into the offered tissues, throwing the tissues away halfhazardly. Once he was finished, Dean grabbed him by one of his shoulders and hauled him to his feet. "Come on, Sam. Let's get you to bed."

He led Sam over to one of the beds, helping to he set him down as gently as possible. He retrieved the tissue box and set it at Sam's hip for later use. “Keep blowing. You're producing snot like it's going out of style." 

Dean was about to leave him when Sam stretched out a hand and grabbed his brother’s wrist. Dean turned in surprise and tilted his head. "Sam, just rest." 

Sam shook his head. "I need to talk to you," he rasped. 

"Don't talk, Sam. It's not good for you after you had an asthma attack like that," Dean told him. However, Sam's hand was still wrapped around his wrist, showing no sign of releasing. 

Sam shook his head once more. "Please, Dean. I won't stop talking until you listen to me. You said it yourself you wanted to talk to me, so let’s talk!”

Sam was beyond stubborn most of the time, as Dean could be. When Sam got this way, there was no way for Dean to talk him out of this. Dean sighed as he took off his boots and sat beside him. "Okay, what's so important that you couldn't wait until you're feeling better?" 

"I want you to know why I haven't told you that I was out of my meds," Sam whispered hoarsely. 

Dean rolled his eyes. "That was stupid, Sam. But, I do need to know why." 

Sam stifled a groan. Dean could be so oblivious sometimes. "Without the meds I won't die or anything and they're expensive. I know how much you have to pay for them, and the other week we barely had enough money left for a motel room and food before you went out to hustle pool. I thought that this could shave off some costs." 

"Sam, asthma is nothing to joke with and neither are your allergies and they go hand in hand," Dean chided as he met his brother's sorrow filled gaze. "This was just stupid." 

"I didn't think so at the time,” Sam whimpered. 

"Well, I hope that you know better now." He gritted his teeth in disbelief. Sam had tried to do something selfless and it still came back to bite him. It seemed that he just couldn’t catch a break. "Sam, we will always find a way to get you what you need, you know that, alright? I'll just spend some more time playing pool or figure something else out. But, don't ever do this again, okay? Promise me." 

"Huh'Tshsh! Huh'ITShsh! Huh'Itshshs!" 

"That's what I thought," answered Dean as Sam fumbled for more tissues to blow his runny nose into. Once he was finished, he held the tissue firmly in his hand and pressed his head against the back of the bed, breathing loudly from his mouth.

"Dean, I'm sorry," Sam whispered. 

Dean smiled as he patted his shoulder comfortingly. “Just don't do it again, okay? Or next time I'll just let you suffocate," Dean joked as he nudged him slightly.

Sam smiled. "Jerk."

"Bitch."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Sometimes we all need some pointless fluff between the brothers. I hope you all are staying safe and healthy!


End file.
